


The Final Battle

by flipflop_diva



Category: Sad Cat Diary (YouTube)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For four innocent cats, trapped in circumstances too unbearable to imagine, death seems the only way out. But they all have one last battle left to wage. Inspired by Youtube's Sad Cat Diary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Battle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katherine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Youtube's Sad Cat Diaries](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/32952) by zefrank1. 



> This was really fun to write. I'm so glad I got this assignment. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy holidays!

Dear Diary,

I fear this may be the last entry I ever make. I am close to death now. I feel it closing in. Closer, closer, coming so much closer.

The food in the bowl has been dwindling at a steady rate, as though some outside force is chipping away at it, removing it kernel by kernel.

My stomach growls, my legs grow weak, I can barely lift my head to move from my position on the couch. My eyes don’t seem to want to open, except to peer across the room as the food in the bowl continues to lower.

Lower. Lower. Lower.

There is nothing I can do. The authorities in this place are beyond cruel. 

They open the metal box, take out slices of pizza, take out bowls of pasta. They taunt me as they eat it all, never offering me any, instead laughing as I wither away.

They are so cruel.

How did I end up here? I was just a simple cat, mewling at doorsteps, hoping someone would take me in. 

The authorities did just that. They took me in, and once upon a time, I thought they were my salvation. Now I know otherwise.

Diary, I am dying. The food bowl grows emptier. I grow weaker.

The end is coming.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

•••

Dear Diary,

I fear this may be the last entry I ever make. I am close to death now. I feel it closing in. Closer, closer, coming so much closer.

This place I am living in is huge, but I am all alone, left to conquer the evil that stirs inside it by myself. Outside is nothing but sand, a barren desert that leaves me no hope.

But inside is no better. I stalk the halls, scratch at the doors, cry for help over and over and over. But no one answers. No one cares.

The authorities are locked in the bedroom. The door is firmly closed. There is no way to get in. I have exhausted all options. I am out of hope.

I will soon perish. Alone and forgotten, trapped in this house with the authorities so close but yet so far.

I had so many plans for life, had hoped for companionship and love. But no. It is not meant to be.

I am dying. I feel it. 

Death moves closer as I lie here, staring mournfully at the bedroom door.

Closer it comes.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

•••

Dear Diary,

I fear this may be the last entry I ever make. I am close to death now. I feel it closing in. Closer, closer, coming so much closer.

My life’s work has been in vain. The terrible, terrible plant has won. I am defeated. My hope is gone. There is nothing left to live for.

I had thought I had been making progress. The plant had been wounded, its poisonous leaves cut off from its body, its evil soil scattered far and wide around the house so as not to be able to reform. 

I had battled against it for days, waging war with no thought to loss of life or limb for myself, balancing on the edge of its crater, barely hanging on as it rocked in its spot.

I defied the authorities who tried to shoo me away from the danger, who tried to save my life, but alas it is no use. The terrible, terrible plant has regenerated.

I do not know if I have the strength left in me to fight the good fight again.

I fear I am growing weak, that I may as well perish. What good is a cat who can’t win in battle?

I am nothing but a failure. I will lie here and wait for death to approach. 

I feel it coming. 

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

•••

Dear Diary,

I fear this may be the last entry I ever make. I am close to death now. I feel it closing in. Closer, closer, coming so much closer.

I have been hallucinating for days, a sure sign of a sickness that is ravaging my body from the inside.

I look at the walls surrounding me and I see insects, colored insects invading my home, and I know I must fight them.

But these insects never die, these insects never move, and now I am left to wonder, are they even insects at all?

The authorities mumbled something about thumbtacks. I heard them speak in a hushed tone when they thought I wasn’t listening. 

Even they are trying to protect me from the truth. The truth that I will never grow old, will never even become an adult, will never eat more than kitten food.

I am hallucinating insects. What will come next?

I fear the worst. I fear death is on the way.

Yes, it must be. I feel it. It’s coming. 

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

••• 

Dear Diary,

The food bowl has been refilled. 

I do not know how or by who, but once again, the kernels are spilling out of its side.

Death has been averted. For now.

But I fear it is only time until it happens again, and next time will mark the end.

I am sure of it.

•••

Dear Diary,

The bedroom door has been opened. 

Death has been averted. For now.

But the authorities seem angry. They must know that death is after me.

But I fear it is only time until it happens again, and next time will mark the end.

I am sure of it.

•••

Dear Diary,

The terrible plant has been defeated once more. I have summoned the energy I didn’t know I had and chewed through the leaves and scattered the soil.

Death has been averted. For now.

But I fear it is only time until a new one grows again, and next time will mark the end.

I am sure of it.

•••

Dear Diary,

The hallucinations have stopped. The insect I tried to catch last night was really an insect. 

The authorities seem relived. Death has been averted. For now.

But I fear it is only time until my sickness returns, and I am not sure if I will be able to fight it next time.

The end is still coming closer. I am sure of it.

Oh, look, I see a bright purple insect right now …


End file.
